The Retreat

From the original manuscript by Mendek Rubin. In “Quest for Eternal Sunshine,” it was shortened and titled, “My Sanctuary.”

The most desirable piece of real estate I ever owned was a sanctuary located on a plateau in the midst of a beautiful mountain range. I called it The Retreat. It was one of those things that money can’t buy, perhaps because the best things in life are free. It was a creation of my mind, and a labor of love. For many long years, it was one of my most often used visualizations. With time, this mental projection became truly alive for me, as if it actually existed in both space and time. It was as real, perhaps even more so, as any other place I had ever inhabited.

The Retreat was several acres in size.  Its center was neatly decorated with an oval-shaped lake, about two football fields long. Fed by a waterfall from the snow-covered mountains above, its crystal clear water was transparent enough that I could see all the way through to the very bottom. The lake was deep, but looked deceptively shallow. The water temperature was always comfortable, inviting and soothing. It was slightly cooler in the morning, and a little warmer in the afternoon.

Wrapped around the lake was a garden with numerous rows of flowerbeds and plants. Its manifold shades of color and intoxicating perfumes were a feast for my senses, and faithful witnesses of the harmony, tranquility, and the joys of Creation.

On the east side of the lake were green, softly sloping hills leading up to the waterfall above that fed the lake. These rolling green pastures enticed me to relax, and take a rest from the endless drudgery and challenges of my everyday existence. It was a place of rest and leisure, where the health of my body, and the well-being of my mind, was restored and invigorated. 

Sprinkled among the sloping green hills were tall trees reaching way up towards the heavens. They stood ever upright, on watch as if they were guarding The Retreat from the countless negative thought forms floating around the earth. 

When I rested on those inviting, soft, velvety green pastures to watch the tops of the tall trees sway softly in the breeze against the clear blue sky above, I was at peace. I was soothed by the sounds of the waterfall rushing down the mountainside.  With the sun warming my body, my mind went silent and my soul was at rest. I was open to the healing powers of nature, and my faith was restored. I felt protected from the constant strife and confusion pervading the “real world” below. I was fearless.

On the south side of the flowerbeds were the orchards and vegetable garden. The sun-ripened tomatoes, blueberries, blackberries and strawberries were juicy and sweet. Still further south was a tropical forest inhabited by many birds and primates. I was happy to be woken from my sleep at dawn by the melodious voices of the singing monkeys.

To the north was a road that stretched out to infinity. This road represented the enigma of life, the puzzle of creation. I knew it was a road that I must inevitably walk one day, but I had no idea when or where it would lead me. The road was my constant reminder of a hidden secret of our sojourn here on this planet — a well-concealed script that represents the mystery of life. It kept me in a state of constant anticipation, creating a tension that something wonderful, and as yet unknown, will eventually come my way.

Between the forest and the gardens was a small house with large windows to take advantage of the magnificent views. Its only chamber was a round bedroom that was sparingly furnished and decorated in pastel colors that blended harmoniously with the outdoors. It contained a brass bed with silk bedding, and a state-of-the-art music system. Two large hand-carved doors made out of red oak were suspended on special hinges that opened and closed in perfect silence, as if they were floating in mid-air. The locks and the brass door handles functioned like a Swiss watch — an example of the joy of perfect mechanical craftsmanship. In spite of their massive weight, they responded to the slightest touch of the fingers.

I rejoiced in the tranquil and refreshing intimacy of bathing or floating in the lake, the clear water caressing my body. I loved sleeping on the green hillside, and savoring the freshly picked fruits and the vegetables. No other apples, pears or apricots ever tasted so sweet. I never tired of the flower garden. Their colors were in a constant state of renewal and their fragrance filled all space. 

The waterfall was ever a source of childlike wonder and delight. The color of the water could be chosen at will, and I would alternate the color to match my mood of the moment. As I stood underneath and allowed the fresh water to run over my body, I would be cleansed of all my sins, doubts and fears. My cares, and everything that wasn’t of benefit, were washed away.  I was free and clean.

It was never clear to me how it happened, but there was another person living there. He was a tall, skinny and silent physician. He never spoke unless spoken to, and we seldom communicated. Perhaps he was there to help me, but I seldom needed him. Other than that, I was there mostly by myself, enjoying my privacy.

The only people I welcomed to The Retreat were my wife and daughters. Edith was a frequent visitor. Holding hands, we would explore the grounds and appreciate the beauty all around us. Ruth and Myra loved to swim in the lake, and were fascinated by the monkeys in the forest. The waterfall however, was their favorite. They could never get enough of it.

The foothills of the Retreat had many canals and intricate waterways. We loved to paddle through the waters as we explored the beautiful pristine land, where peace and silence reigned. Some of the canals led to settlements along the coastline, where the homes were often built on stilts over the water.  The tribes who lived there dated back in time to pre-recorded history. They were happy people who lived harmoniously with nature and each other. Our family would navigate through the canals to visit these neighbors. We were always welcomed into their homes with open arms.

 Getting to know these people and their way of life was a special opportunity. Our good neighbors were still enjoying a childlike and carefree existence. Even though we spoke very different languages, we communicated well. Without words, Ruth and Myra got along very well with these children of nature. They giggled and played like there would be no tomorrow. If it were up to them, we would stay there forever. Edith and I always took a great deal of vicarious pleasure watching them playing games they’d invented and having such a good time.

What attracted me to these people more than anything else was their inner composure and self-assurance, something that I was missing in life. I was drawn to them like a magnet. In their presence, my problems seemed irrelevant. Their simplicity was an antidote to my complicated life, their easy laughter was music to my ears.

Building The Retreat was a gradual process. The more I practiced it, the sharper the focus, and the more intense the experience. After many years, The Retreat became a part of my consciousness, and an extension of myself. It is still very much alive in me. I think about it with pleasure and satisfaction, and I return to it whenever my need or fancy takes me there. Now, after many happy years, this place is open to the public. I suspect that it exists on some level of reality that cannot be explained, and everyone is welcome.